Subreality Series
by SLWalker
Summary: This is a jaunt into the realm between fiction and reality. It's a metaphysical type of journey, based in Kielle's Subreality. It's odd, confusing, but if you can follow it, then enjoy.
1. 1 - Passing the Torch

**_Passing the Torch_**  
_AKA - Inherited Lunacy  
_Subreality Series - 1  
  
by: SLWatson  
  
Notes: If you're not familiar with the concept of Subreailty, then this may be entertaining but confusing. However, if you're just looking for a bunch of kind of off-kilter, goofy fics, then feel free to read. Most of these stories take place in a canon based on an RPG, wherein we mix about nine different universes with some amusing results. This is a taste of that insane universe.  
  
Disclaimers: Mike Nelson belongs to BBI. Scott Summers belongs to Marvel (but they don't deserve him). Kielle came up with the concept of Subreailty. Check it out: [http://www.subreality.com/sc.htm][1]. We're in her debt for allowing us to play here.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
  
The leaves were changing, and the world was alive with color. Trees rustled as a breeze blew through, carrying with it bright pieces of color through the deep blue sky. The air had that scent... the smell of leaves now dead and of woodsmoke from some fire out of view. Laughter echoed through, but it was distant and not altogether unpleasant to listen to. Laughter in itself was not common here.  
  
The sound was coming from the back yard, several hundred yards away. Out of all the people there, only one man understood the true nature of their existence, but he wouldn't be remaining behind for long. Too much had happened, and too much had changed, but he couldn't allow himself to start another life without at least training a replacement.  
  
Scott Summers enjoyed the brief moment in the sunlight and leaves of autumn. Needless to say, the moment would be too short, but that was the way things were. He had made his decision, and there was no going back from here. Finally shaking himself from the enchantment of fall, he looked over to the man sitting against the trunk of an oak, watching the leaves fall with the same sort of rapt fascination that had held Scott only a moment ago.  
  
There were a lot alike in some ways, and even more different in others. He smiled to himself, then picked up a small stick, chucking it at his companion.  
  
Mike Nelson looked at him, tearing himself away from his daydreams. He was a dreamer; he couldn't help it. Naive, good-natured, and maybe a bit too easily distracted. Still, he had some idea of the truth. "What?" the blond farmboy smirked. "Can't I pay attention to something besides your angst-ridden lecturing?"  
  
"Not when I'm going back to Alaska tomorrow," Scott replied, raising an eyebrow. "This is important."  
  
"But it's my first fall back on Earth!" Mike whined, but he crossed his legs Indian-style and made an effort to pay attention.  
  
Scott sighed. His attention span was that of a two-year-old's. Still... "Alright, let's try this again. There are infinite dimensions with infinite possibilities. We're in one of them..." The former Field Commander of the X-Men let his voice trail off when he saw Mike mimicking him with a decidedly bored look, "Do you mind?"  
  
Mike grinned. "No at all."  
  
"Well, I do. So stop." Scott scowled faintly. Most people worried when he got that look. Mike generally just grinned that damned insufferable grin, though, and there were a few occasions when Scott felt the urge to smack him upside the head. "Now this dimension we exist in is weird. All kinds of potential for paradoxes, destruction, and..." now it was Scott's turn to smirk, "Poofdom."  
  
The mention of that word had the effect he wanted. Mike immediately stopped his comic relief and got a rather worried look. "Uhhhh... are you allowed to say that? Because... well..."  
  
"Because it could destroy all of this," Scott finished for him, gesturing around. "Y'see, Poofdom is when one of the other people here learn the truth of our existence and why and when and how."  
  
Mike edged away. "So why are you telling me?"  
  
Scott tried not to let amusement show through his carefully composed features. "You're the only one that has a clue, and since I'm leaving, I have to make sure someone knows."  
  
"I don't have a clue," Mike answered, a little hurriedly. That was only a half-truth, and both of them knew it.  
  
"Bull. Now listen close... in this universe, there are people who basically control the flow. Not everything, because believe it or not, we have as much influence on them as they do on us, but most of the events are their devising."  
  
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Like playing a video game?"  
  
Scott shook his head. "Sort of, but a little more complicated. Let me try this another way... imagine that everyone here is a character in a novel, and there's someone writing out our lives. They throw in plot twists, new characters, whatever... but it's all written down."  
  
This seemed to dawn on Mike. "Like the Neverending Story?" He was an avid reader, and that was one of his favorite books.  
  
"A lot like that." Scott nodded. "Now we're all a part of this story, devised by our Writers. You and I have the same Writer."  
  
Mike grinned slightly, pulling a wild card he had kept fairly secret until now. "Or Mun."  
  
Scott blinked. He really wasn't as lost as he acted, was he? "Or Mun. Depending, I guess, on the situation... Since she wrote both you and I formally, either would work."  
  
"So you basically yanked me away from the barbecue, threw a stick at me, and made me listen to you yack to tell me something I kinda already know?" Now Mike had taken on a somewhat smug aire.  
  
"Well... yea," Scott said, resisting the urge to smack him again. "But you know that if you tell anyone, Poofdom occurs."  
  
Mike went pale at the mention of that word. Poofdom was kind of complicated, and he only knew bits and pieces of the theory. Someone finds out they're nothing more than a character in a story, or an elaborate RPG, and they go *poof*. "Yea..." he shuddered. He didn't even want to think about Poofdom, let alone tell anyone about it.  
  
Scott wasn't about to go into the fact that they're not even original characters, but characters stolen from TV or comic books. Not only was it a very touchy subject, but he highly doubted Mike would be able to take it. "Anyway, our Writer is insane. She's got a serious mental imbalance that forces her to mesh together as many universes as possible. The one we're in is the result of this lunacy."  
  
Mike chuckled, "That explains you, now doesn't it?"  
  
"Thanks," Scott sighed. "Now she's been my Writer for 7 years and counting, and Lord only knows how long she's going to keep you around. But as long as she does, you're going to have to be the voice of reason."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes, you. Since one of the other Mun's went nuts, she feels it best to send me off to try out another life. That leaves you..."  
  
Mike looked around with his patented "deer in the headlights" look. "Why not Remy, or one of them?"  
  
"Remy can barely keep himself sane," Scott said, somewhat seriously. "She likes you, and that's why you have a shot at reasonably keeping her from losing her mind."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Don't worry, it's not as hard as you think. Just torment her over typos, throw out some ideas, basically keep her distracted from thinking too hard too quickly about real world problems." Scott was trying pretty hard to make this sound simple. In truth, it wasn't. His Writer had a lot of problems... the worst being her own mind. He had done his best to keep her from losing it, but now... now he had to leave. Still, Mike would do well in his stead. She adored the Wisconsin farmboy, and would go to some pretty extreme lengths to protect him from angst and pain. Scott hadn't been so lucky, but then, he was the first. She didn't know any better back then. Now that she did, someone else had finished him.  
  
"But isn't it the first rule of a Character never to piss off the Writer?" Mike asked, a pretty simple question.  
  
"Trust me, you can get away with it," Scott replied, grinning himself for the first time all afternoon. "I could, and I know you can."  
  
Mike mulled this over, watching some leaves fly across the lawn. "Huh... so my job is to keep the Writer from losing her mind by driving her crazy with jokes about typos, misspellings, and plot holes?"  
  
Scott nodded. He caught on quick when he felt like it.  
  
"Okay, but the minute she starts tormenting back, I'm going to come after you and kick your butt to the moon," Mike finally agreed. He wasn't sure what he was getting into, but Scott was his friend despite their bickering, and it seemed pretty important to him.  
  
Scott stood, offering a smile. "I guess that's fair," the smile faded into a smirk, "I dub thee Main Character, and may God have mercy on your soul." And with that, he walked away.  
  
Mike watched him go, wondering if that statement should worry him. This was a relatively new concept to him, but not so weird he couldn't grasp it. Just like a sci-fi novel or a weird, psychological thriller. Turning his attention back to the leaves and the sunlight, he contemplated it for quite awhile, getting used to the idea by degrees. Main Character, eh? Maybe that's something that could come in handy. Very quietly, after glancing around to make sure no one could hear, he said, "So you're the Writer, I'm the Main Character. I don't suppose it's too much to ask for a nice long Indian summer?"  
  
A cool breeze blew through, more of an edge on it than there had been all day.  
  
Mike rolled his eyes, "Very funny," and stood up to walk back to the barbecue.  
  
- --------- - --  
  


   [1]: http://www.subreality.com/sc.htm



	2. 2 - Spreading the News

**_Spreading the News_**  
_AKA - The Secret Got Out_  
_Subreality Series - 2_  
  
By:   
SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
- --------- - --  
  
The cold snap had definite effects on the Northeastern states. And particularly in Westchester, New York, where a group of some of the most diverse people in existence dwelled. Yes, it was cold... those with thinner skins stayed inside, and those more acclimated to the lower temperatures ventured out, not letting the wind chill keep them from their traditional routine.  
  
And speaking of existence, that was the question that dwelled in Mike's mind as he sat on the dock he had almost claimed as his own. A fishing bobber floated lazily in the clear water, but he knew that nothing would bite. One because there weren't any fish and two because he never used a hook to begin with. Smiling to himself, he contemplated the absurdity of fishing for absolutely no reason, but then his thoughts slipped back to existence.  
  
That was a funny thing. Afterall, what is real life and what's fiction? He's read more books in his time than most people can claim... does that make him real and the books fiction?  
  
Now that line between Reality and Unreality was more blurred than ever. He had actually faced up to the fact that he was nothing more than someone else's dream... but he still didn't feel that way. He felt as alive and real as ever.  
  
He stood up, pacing the length of the dock and leaving the fishing pole behind. It wasn't going anywhere in his absence, unless the Oreo fish struck. The thought of that made him smile... it seemed like so much longer than a few months ago. Well, a few months ago in an entirely different universe.  
  
Okay, now he had given himself a headache. Mike was never one to question Fate and Destiny all that much... even when he had been shot into space, he hadn't let it phase him. He had gotten a bit more insane, sure, but then he didn't have a whole lot of choice. The only way to survive was to go a bit crazy. But now he actually had to think, and sometimes he found it a bit more troublesome than he would have liked.  
  
Scott had left, and now Mike was the only one to know. He didn't want to be, though. He wanted at least someone else to contemplate the laws of Reality and Unreality with. Someone he trusted, someone he knew wouldn't wig out.  
  
He already knew who. Grinning, he finally decided to let someone else in on the world of Characters and Writers. His best friend, and the one person the Writers didn't expect him to make friends with, oddly enough.  
  
It was a good half an hour later, when he had stowed his fishing gear away and gotten himself a cup of coffee, that he headed up the steps and down the hallway, knocking on Joel's door.  
  
  
Even before the knock had come to his door, Joel Robinson had been mulling over his life. Sundays seemed to be not only the day of rest, but also the day of reason for those at the mansion, Joel included. Everyone would either think about their past or their future, but no one usually thought about the present.  
  
As he sat on his bed, he looked over some pictures the 'bots had given him. Most are crude stick drawings that Tom had done, but they still had the quality that Joel enjoyed so much. He had wanted to know how they liked their time on the Satellite of Love after he had left, and they had submitted pictures to him instead of having to bear their feelings in public.  
  
He had remembered when he was first shot into space. Everything was so hard for him at first, being alone and not having anything to do. Then, he started to build, and before he knew it, Gypsy was running around, working on the crucial systems while Joel had some time to relax.  
  
At first, she had been a remarkable thing, but then came Crow. Painted in his nice, metallic gold color, he was witty, smart, and most of all, he gave Joel someone to talk to when Gypsy was busy. Still, there had to be someone else for them to talk to in case one of the others were busy, so Joel went back to the building block.  
  
This time a shiny red robot with a bubbled head, slinky-like arms and singing voice like nothing in existence was "born." He hovered around on his hoverskirt, basically causing mischief with Crow. Joel had meant them to be like brothers, and half the time they acted like brothers, but he wasn't exactly sure how they thought of each other.  
  
Perched on the edge of his bed, he remembered when he had left the SOL, and a pang of sadness ran with the shivers up his spine. Had he really been the same person when he left as he was when he created the 'bots? How could he have been? No good father would have left his children behind. Still, what's done was done and he does his best to made amends.  
  
So, when the knock came on his door, he was happy to come out of his thoughts and look up. And he smiled a bit, knowing Mike was behind the door. Some unseen force had connected their minds in an odd sense... he just knew. "Come in, Mike."  
  
Mike stepped inside, closing the door behind him and flopping down in a chair. He had that look of semi-mischief on his face. "Okay, I have this problem. Well, not quite problem, but it's weird."  
  
Joel sat back and crossed his legs Indian-style on the bed. "What kind of a not quite weird problem?  
  
Mike looked up at the ceiling for a moment, somewhat wishing the answer would be there. "It's the metaphysical kind."  
  
Blinking, Joel looked at his friend. "Oooh... that doesn't sound too good."  
  
"Actually, I don't think it's bad bad, just kinda weird," Mike mused, still looking at the ceiling. "And did you know that there's this monster mosquito buzzing around up there?"  
  
With a sharp glance up, Joel looked and then dove over his bed. "NASA's spying on me!!"  
  
Mike snickered, looking around for a handy piece of paper to swat it with. "Wonder how it got in here..."  
  
Joel peeked out. "Probably got in through the window for some research... or maybe on your back."  
  
Mike gasped in mock horror, rolling up an old copy of the Salem Center Review and he took a flying leap towards the ceiling and the mosquito. Joel watched the scene unfold in slow motion. The leap, the swat, the splat and the return to earth, leaving a red splotch on the ceiling.  
  
Mike landed, triumphantly sporting his newspaper. "Ah ha! I got the blighter!" He sat back down, smugly. "God I'm good."  
  
Joel crawled out, grinning. "Thanks, Chief."  
  
"Welcome!" Mike chuckled, then grinned himself at the splotch on the white ceiling. "Well, maybe no one'll notice..."  
  
"Might want to get rid of the evidence." Taking the paper, Joel opened the window, threw it out and then closed the window again, whistling.  
  
Below, heading back to the shed, Logan looked up just in time to get a face full of newspaper.  
  
"Long as there's no one out there." Mike crossed his arms, whistling himself.  
  
As Joel edged over and looked down out of the window, he swallowed slightly and stepped back. "Uuuh... I think it'll be okay."  
  
Mike raised an eyebrow, standing. "Was someone down there?"  
  
Nodding, Joel whispered, "Logan..."  
  
Mike's eyes grew wide for a moment, and he inched over the window, looking out just in time to see Logan rounding the corner for the front door. Laughing nervously, he glanced at Joel, "Think we should... uh... hide?"  
  
"No matter what we do, he'll find us..."  
  
"Never hurts to try."  
  
Joel ran out of the room, looking for some place to hide, and Mike was hot on his heels.  
  
  
The boys managed to sneak out, both of them snickering. Deep down they knew Logan probably wouldn't kill them, but they could never predict what mood he would be in, so it didn't hurt to do a little clever evasion.  
  
In all truth, Mike and Joel were the loons of the X-Mansion. One could guarantee they would get into some sort of trouble in their crazy adventures. On some occasions they had the capacity to be thoughtful, mature adults. And then they got some idea or another... one of the most memorable was driving to Ohio just for hot-dogs. That wasn't all. Oh no, there was a flying, flaming Lawnboy that soared for 3 miles over the Xavier Estate. A jaunt out onto the ocean in Scott's sailboat, without the Field Commander knowing. And then the paintball war.  
  
They finally stopped down at the dock, both still grinning from their quick getaway. Not that Logan couldn't track them down, but as Mike had said, it never hurts to try. The farmboy leaned against a post, chuckling a bit, "Well, we got away..."  
  
Joel smiled, resting back into his spot. "That we did."  
  
Mike nodded, looking out over the water for a moment. "Hey Joel?"  
  
"Yea, Mike?"  
  
What if we were all just fictional? Like someone mapped out everything? I mean, would that freak you out?" Mike asked, looking back at Joel.  
  
Joel looked down at the ground, playing with a stone, "Not really. It's possible, isn't it?"  
  
Mike chuckled, "Well, I have a few universal facts I am absolutely positive of."  
  
"What're they?"  
  
"First of all, whenever you look for a fork in the utensil cabinet, you're gonna find the spoon you wanted yesterday when all there was left were forks."  
  
Joel laughed, "Or the same way with anything you lose."  
  
Mike nodded, solemnly. "And that whenever you lose the remote, it's because it slipped into an alternate dimension. So it could be in plain view, but you won't see it."  
  
Snickering, Joel tossed the stone into the water.  
  
"Well, and then there's something Scott told me..." Mike said, watching the ripples from the stone.  
  
"That there's someone else out there?"  
  
Mike grinned, "Yea. But it's neat, 'cause there's this other world. And these people kinda control some things here, but I think we can control some things there too."  
  
Smiling, Joel thought for a moment, catching on. "So, we're kind of characters controlling characters?" It wasn't hard for him to believe it, in a world of paradoxes and mutants, of being shot into space, sentient robots, and other such things.  
  
Mike tilted his head, watching the water again. "I think it's like that. Actually, Scott told me they're the Writers and we're the Characters. But I think they're Characters too."  
  
Robinson nodded, snickering, "I get it."  
  
"So," Mike got that mischievous look again, that signaled the birth of another great idea, "What do you say we try to do a little in return?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan."  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike, Joel and the 'bots belong to BBI. Logan is Marvel's, along with Scott and the X-Mansion in general. Subreality and the concepts of were Kielle's incredible invention. The lunacy we come up with... it's spreading! Bwahahahaha!  
  



	3. 3 - Reality Break

**_Reality Break_**  
_AKA - Rebels With a Cause  
_Subreality Series - 3  
  
By: SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
- --------- - --  
  
The weather had turned somewhat warmer, and for this, Mike was pleased. He sat on the window sill in his bedroom... well, technically it was Scott's bedroom, but he had moved to Alaska, so Mike had laid claim on it... and reviewed some papers. Metallica was raging from the stereo system, and Storm had come in to complain 3 different times about the noise level. Rather than end up electrocuted, he turned it down to moderately loud instead of ear-bleeding loud, and continued his planning.  
  
His rebellion ideas were proceeding along nicely. His Writer was temporarily distracted by the fact that her Co-Writer had been without electricity, so it gave him ample time to work behind her back. Not that he hated her or anything, but being a rebel has always been in his nature.  
  
The first leg of the plan involved getting out of her brain and going for a stroll. For this, he was moderately prepared. As he planned, Joel was in his room doing what he does best; inventing a tool that would be invaluable. A tool that Writers wouldn't be able to use without some bereavement, but that he and the other Characters could use with little or no ridicule. Well, he hoped anyway. He wasn't one hundred percent sure. Still, it was worth a try.  
  
He was yanked from his plans by a stern knock on the door. Sighing heavily, he opened it, knowing without a doubt that Ororo Munroe would be there to complain again about his music.  
  
Sure enough, the white haired woman was there, in full uniform. She was tall... almost tall enough to look Mike in the face. That had worried him when he had first met her, but the lightning thing took precedence over her height pretty quick. She scowled. "I understand that in space there are no neighbors--"  
  
"Actually, the Mir wasn't too far away," he interrupted, unable to stop himself.  
  
Storm rubbed her eyes in a moment of very un-weather-goddess-like behavior. He was bad enough on his own. Poor Kitty had pretty much been driven to a nervous breakdown trying to keep him and Joel from getting themselves killed. Dropping her voice and getting almost nose-to-nose with Mike, she let annoyance color her words, "I understand that there are few complaining neighbors in space, but unfortunately, we are all living under the same roof here. And if I have to hear "No Leaf Clover" one more time, I am personally going to send you back to orbit without the aid of life support."  
  
Mike was about to reply, and undoubtedly it would be a smart-aleck reply, but in that moment, Storm suddenly got a faintly panicked look and her eyes grew wide. "My uniform!!" And with that enigmatic utterance, she ran down the hall and slammed the bathroom door behind her.  
  
Mike looked after her for a moment, puzzled, then glanced down the hall in the opposite direction to where Joel was walking up, snickering. "Wonder what's up with her," Mike mused, leaning on the door frame.  
  
Joel held up a little device that looked like a modified Palm V. "She... well, how do I put this politely? She had a minor feminine emergency."  
  
Mike blinked. "You didn't..."  
  
"Well, I had to try this out somehow," Joel replied, suddenly turning a pleasant shade of red.  
  
"It works?" Mike asked, immediately forgetting about Storm and walking over to look at the little gizmo.  
  
Joel grinned proudly "Yep! The Plot Convenience Device is now operational."  
  
Mike laughed, "This is great! How'd you do it?"  
  
"It was simple," Joel answered. "I used a modified chip from a Texas Instruments calculator, a funny looking crystal I borrowed from Remy's collection, soldered a few wires, and added a special little curcuit board from Cerebro."  
  
Mike's eyebrows drew together confusion. "Cerebro? Are you sure that's a good idea?"  
  
"Yea." Joel nodded. "It wasn't that important, and I don't think they'll miss it before I can make a replacement."  
  
"What'd it do?"  
  
"It picked up signals from satellites and that and converted them to data," Joel's eyes all but sparkled, "I tinkered with it a bit, and now it picks up unrealistic thoughts from the minds of our Writers, converts them to energy that can be formed into pockets of complete unreality... then I linked it all to the Palm V and made it usable."  
  
Mike shook his head. "You're brilliant."  
  
"Nope, just a tinkerer." Joel also shook his head, modestly. "Now, are we ready to take this for a little shakedown run?"  
  
"You bet." Mike took a deep breath, ready for anything. Who knew what was out there? Joel put a few things into the Plot Convenience device, and in a flash of light, they vanished.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike and Joel belong to BBI, and Storm belongs to Marvel. Kielle came up with Subreality, and I'm starting to enjoy this realm waaaaay too much... even if it does give my characters thoughts of rebellion.  
  
Note: If anyone wants to borrow the Plot Convenience Device, feel free. If someone else came up with the idea, let us beg on our knees and apologize profusely, 'cause we honestly didn't know. We're not sane, we were never sane, and we will never be sane.  
  



	4. 4 - Cafe Newbies

**_Cafe Newbies_**  
_AKA - A Mike in Shining Denim_  
_Subreality Series - 4_  
  
By: SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
Notes: This is our first actual shot at the Cafe scene... :::cringes::: I hope we didn't goof it up.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
And with an equally bright flash, the Dynamic Duo reappeared. Mike blinked once or twice, trying to clear his vision of those annoying, funny colored little spots that usually appear after a camera flash. It took another moment after those cleared up to focus on the dim lighting...  
  
He blinked again, but not because of wonky vision. There were eight Remys playing poker. *Eight*... God, he could barely stand the one he was stuck with... why was there eight? He said, not even bothering to glance over at Joel, "I think you took the unreality thing just a bit too far."  
  
Joel looked at the table, then back at the Plot Convenience Device, eyebrows furrowed. "I told it to take us out into the 'real world'... something must have gotten scrambled along the way."  
  
Mike looked around, trying not to let his gaze linger for more than a few moments in any one place. There were some odd looking characters, the lighting was kind of low, and it reminded him a lot of Harry's. "Any idea where we are?" He finally asked Joel, who was still working on his little invention.  
  
"No clue," Joel answered, moving to the nearby bar and sitting down. The device was dead, and he couldn't figure out why until he noticed the little "battery out" icon blinking at the bottom of the screen. "Ohhhh man."  
  
Mike normally would have been worried, but his attention was almost instantly diverted by Kitty Pryde and some scrawny looking, dark-haired fellow arguing at a corner table. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this wasn't the Kitty Pryde that was his team leader and friend, but Mike wasn't exactly consulting the higher functions of reasoning at the moment, and he discreetly began working his way over. He had no clue what he was going to say when he got there, but he'd cross that bridge when he got there.  
  
The argument seemed to be heated when he stepped over. Kitty was drinking some kind of red drink with a cherry in it while an open bottle of whiskey sat next to the man. There was a lit cigarette in the ashtray, and the man was practically yelling, "It wasn't my fault they stepped in front of the gun!"  
  
"Did you have to be shooting?!" Kitty sighed, rubbing her eyes. Looking down at the drink, she took a sip before setting it back down.  
  
"Waste of bullets, if ya ask me..." The man slugged down his whiskey, slamming it back on the table.  
  
"Pete, what the heck? Can't you be civil once in your life?"  
  
"Why should I be civil?" He smirked. "Not like you'd appreciate it."  
  
"Hey!" Mike intervened, his words having absolutely nothing to do with any sort of rational thought, "Watch how you speak to her!"  
  
Pete looked at him like he was something that crawled out of a gutter. "Who th' bloody Hell are you?"  
  
Kitty raised an eyebrow, looking up at the farmboy and smiled slightly. "I dunno, but he's a lot cuter then you."  
  
Mike blushed. "Errrrr... Mike Nelson, ma'am. I'm from..." he gestured helplessly, finally settling on, "Out there. Somewhere." Pete scowled, but Mike ignored him.  
  
Kitty stood, offering her hand. "Kitty Pryde. And the oh so crude one here is Pete Wisdom."  
  
Pete sputtered, "Least I'm not a goody-goody brown noser..."  
  
"Yea, we have a Kitty where I come from to... she's our leader, actually," Mike answered, shaking her hand in turn and 'accidentally' bumping the ash tray, knocking the burning cigarette onto Wisdom's lap.  
  
"Bloody Christ, I'm on fire!" Pete yowled, leaping out of his seat and annoying a few Wolverines tanking up on whiskey at the table beside them.  
  
She smiled. "Well, we don't have a Mike Nelson where we come from. Or a..." Kitty looked to Joel, an eyebrow raised.  
  
Joel looked up from his machine. "Joel. Joel Robinson." He smiled, shaking her hand.  
  
"Or a Joel Robinson. So, where you from, then?"  
  
Mike shrugged. "We don't know. We just... well, kind of ended up here. The Plot Convenience Device malfunctioned."  
  
"The what?" Kitty looked at the machine and then back to them.  
  
"The Plot Convenience Device. It's an odd concept, basically on the lines that it gives us the upper hand," Joel explained.  
  
"Really? Wow..."  
  
"Speaking of," Mike said, eyeing the device, "What's wrong with it?"  
  
"Batteries." The inventor smirked, flatly.  
  
"Batteries? That's all? Well, why not buy some more? We're not exactly going by the Writer's rules here..." Kitty smiled, completely forgetting about Wisdom running around behind her, his pants on fire and at least three torqued off Logans chasing him.  
  
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Where can we buy batteries?"  
  
"You could try the Corner Store," Kitty answered, nodding towards the door. "It's about four miles down the road."  
  
"Thanks!" Mike grinned, watching Pete run between some tables before the Manager stepped out from behind the bar and intervened. "I think we better go and find some before we get into much more trouble. Nice meeting you!"  
  
Kitty smiled. "Maybe we'll catch you two again sometime."  
  
"Yea," Joel chuckled, "As soon as we figure out where we are. Thanks for the help."  
  
"No problem." She waved, going back to her drink. Pete sat down a moment later, looking even more annoyed, but this time he kept his mouth shut.  
  
Joel pocketed his invention, Mike took one last look around, and then the pair walked out of the Cafe, headed into the unknown.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike and Joel belong to BBI. Kitty, Pete, Logan, and Remy (or should that be plural?) belong to Marvel. The Manager belongs to Falstaff, Subreality is Kielle's domain, and we don't get paid, so we can't afford counseling.  



	5. 5 - Subreality Corner Store

**_Subreality Corner Store_**  
_AKA - Batteries or Broke_  
_Subreality Series - 5_  
  
By: SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
- --------- - --  
  
It wasn't a bad walk by any stretch. The weather was kind of pleasant, if not a little odd... it would go from autumn to spring to summer and even briefly to winter once as Mike and Joel walked along. At least the scenery was nice, and sort of rural. Trees lined a well battered road, some of which were just sprouting new leaves and others that were shedding theirs. Still, once one got past the fact that the laws of time weren't being followed, it made for a nice walk.  
  
At this moment, the Terrible Twosome were discussing the Cafe. A moment ago, they had discussed the weather, and a moment before that it was Remy's movie collection back home. They had a habit of switching topics in mid-conversation, and anyone who hadn't really gotten to know them would accuse them of a short attention span. In truth, they had a very short attention span when they weren't doing anything particularly interesting.  
  
Mike kicked a stone. "Wonder if all Kittys are like the one we have..."  
  
"I dunno," Joel answered, readjusting his path so he could kick the stone next. "Wonder what was up with that Wisdom guy." He finally got to it and gave it a good kick, watching it skitter down the road.  
  
"I didn't like him." Mike shrugged, eyeing the stone. "He was kinda creepy looking, and he sure as heck didn't need to talk to her like that."  
  
Joel chuckled, "Yea, but she can take care of herself."  
  
"I know, I know... but if my dad woulda heard me talk to a girl like that, I woulda gotten my hind end tanned." Mike gave the stone a good hard kick, then fell back into step with Joel. "I felt like decking him."  
  
"Green-eyed monster getting to you, eh?" Joel teased.  
  
Mike blushed somewhat, picking his pace up to go after the stone. "No..."  
  
"Suuuuure." Joel grinned, matching his pace and going for the stone himself. Mike didn't answer, and they got into a brief scuffle over who got to kick the rock next. After a moment of pushing and kicking, they fell back into step and continued, leaving it behind.  
  
"Spring again," Mike commented, after a pause. The trees were bright green, new leaves on the branches.  
  
"Yea, but it's fall over here," Joel replied, stepping across the street, where it was indeed fall. Picking up one of the colorful leaves he turned it around in his fingers, looking around before noticing something. "Hey, look, it's a caterpillar!" He smiled, walking over to the tree and taking a peek at brown and black animal.  
  
"Cool!" Mike exclaimed, moving to look at it as well while above, two distinct giggles are heard, fading off into the distance.  
  
Joel looked around, slightly paranoid liked and then looked to Mike. Shrugging a bit, he continued his walk, commenting on the caterpillar, "Well, from what the brown on the wooly-bear says, it's going to be a long winter."  
  
As if an omen, the season turned to winter and they both laughed as the snow fell for a minute of so, then it was summer once again. "Yep, a long winter."  
  
Mike nodded, hiding his grin long enough to sound solemn, "That was brutal."  
  
Joel chuckled a little longer, "Yep!"  
  
The great gestalt continued, finally coming up on what looked very much like a two story house. The pale blue paint was faded and cracking, and above the porch was a sign painted in sun-bleached red letters: Subreality Corner Store. A rocking chair sat on the porch, swaying slightly in the light breeze, and it looked kind of lonely out here in the middle of nowhere. Mike glanced over at Joel and shrugged, then they walked up the steps and pushed the screen door open. Unlike the road, the weather immediately around this store was perpetually summer.  
  
There were a few things behind the counter, locked in a glass case. Some notebooks, a pen or two, and some whiteout. Hanging on the wall were some fishing lures and other such odds and ends, and along the aisles were cans of food and tools. On one table was a pot of freshly brewed coffee, powdered creamer, and sugar; complete with styrofoam cups and stir-sticks. Joel walked around, looking for some batteries while Mike eyed up the lures.  
  
A woman walked out from the back storage room, wiping her hands on an apron and smiling at her two customers. "Hey fellas. Anything I can help you with?"  
  
Mike smiled back. "We're just here looking for batteries, ma'am," he answered, Midwestern courtesy automatic in the presence of a lady. He glanced at the lures. "Do you have a lake around here?"  
  
"Sort of." She nodded, taking the lures down to show him. "It's more of a pond, and some of the younger folks meet down there fairly often when they're in between fics."  
  
Joel smiled, still on his search for batteries but enjoying that he was able to get out and roam.  
  
"You here all the time?" Mike asked, looking back up at her. She was definitely older than he was, probably in her late 40's. Long blonde hair, pulled back into a pony tail, an older looking dress, but she was kind of pretty in that hometown sort of way, and he found himself reminded of his mother and pictures of her when she was around that age.  
  
"Yes sir," she chuckled, offering a hand. "I''m one of the permanent residents here... my name is Betty Ann."  
  
Mike shook it. "I'm Mike, and that's Joel. We just ended up here."  
  
She laughed, "That's how most people do." She looked over his shoulder to Joel. "Need any help?"  
  
"Yea, do you guys have batteries here?" he asked, eyebrow raised. Stepping up to the counter, he smiled, "We kinda ran out a little unsuspected." Boy, he was sure that she had to have lived in the Midwest all of her life; she just had that look and aire to her.  
  
"What kind do you need, honey?" She moved over to a wall where there were a few kinds of batteries.  
  
"Double A, if you have them. And a lot, if you can. I think we'll be using this thing a lot," he smiled, appreciatively.  
  
Betty pulled a few packages down. "I have three packs of 4... is that enough?"  
  
"That's fine, ma'am," Mike answered, pulling his wallet out.  
  
"Are you married?" Joel grinned, leaning his head on his hand and his elbow on the counter.  
  
Betty laughed, "Hate to say it, but no. My husband took off a long time ago."  
  
"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that."  
  
"Naw, it's alright," she answered, taking Mike's proffered twenty and ringing up the change. "I like it here. I get to meet all kinds of folks, and I like the area."  
  
Mike took the change. "It was nice meeting you, ma'am."  
  
Joel stood back up, smiling. "Well, I'm glad you like it here. Maybe we'll all meet again someday."  
  
Betty nodded. "Just make sure you fellows bundle up," she winked, "I hear there's some wacky weather outside."  
  
"Yes ma'am!" Mike laughed, taking the bag of batteries and heading for the door.  
  
Following him, Joel took out the Plot Convenience Device and flipped the battery compartment open. He took the old batteries out and put them in his pocket then held out his hand for the others.  
  
Mike worked one of the packs open and handed him the batteries. "Are we going home, or are we going to stick around here for awhile?"  
  
"It's up to you. With this," he commented, adding the batteries, "we can go anywhere we like." Flipping the compartment closed, he flicked the machine on.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike and Joel belong to BBI. Betty Ann and the Subreality Corner Store belongs to anyone who feels like using it. Subreality itself is Kielle's vision, and the playground for us poor folks who have few others.  



	6. 6 - Alaskan October

**_Alaskan October  
_**Subreality Series - 6  
  
By: SLWatson  
  
Note: I adore the Dynamic Duo... but... aw, heck. Just read it and don't lynch me for being a nut.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Alaska was cold, even in October. Not so bad, though, that Scott couldn't handle it. He wore a turtleneck and a sweater over that, then an old leather jacket to cover all of it. Moving back to Alaska had certainly made him appreciate his long-johns though.  
  
He felt the ax bite into the log, the shock of the impact run up his arms, and the log split. The solid clunk as each piece fell, then he picked another up and set it on the block. It was a steady routine, and he relished in it. It relaxed him, kept him moving, made him feel good. Maybe he'd feel it later, but for now he loved it. The swing, the bite, the shock, the clunk.  
  
He had been at it for hours. The sun had rose sometime around 9, and he knew it would set earlier than it had in New York. No matter... he would have wood for the fireplace and he could cook himself some dinner. Then tomorrow he would go to work chasing down animals and men alike.  
  
He knew she was there before she said anything. She appeared as she always had... a silent arrival. He set the ax down, turning to face his Writer.  
  
"Hey," she grinned, crookedly, "How's it going?"  
  
"Not too bad," Scott answered, sitting down on the chopping block. She looked tired and ragged, but that was her normal look. Faded, torn jeans, brown hair that hadn't seen a brush in at least a few days, and perpetual dark circles under her eyes, "How's life in the real world?"  
  
"Tiring," she sighed, sitting down on another log, "We had a book in this week, then Rick's getting the kids," she rubbed her eyes, "Not to mention, Karen's going to be gone all day tomorrow and I'm not going to have anyone to talk to."  
  
Scott winced. Her sister and her shared a brain, and her stepchildren drive her crazy, "That sucks..."  
  
"Seriously."  
  
"So what heralds this visit?" the former X-Man asked, the top of one eyebrow raised above the red lenses he had to wear, "Mike behaving himself?"  
  
The Writer scoffed, but there wasn't any anger there, "Does he ever? The man's impossible!" she rolled her eyes, "You fill him in, he gets delusions of grandeur and decides to take on Subreality. Him and Joel both."  
  
Scott laughed, "Joel's in on it too? Oh man... well, you know what happens when they get together."  
  
"Insanity."  
  
"Yea, but was it any different when Remy and I decided to take on the world?" he smiled, maybe a little reminiscently.  
  
She smiled also, "Not really. At least Mike isn't armed on his little jaunt... well, aside from the Plot Convenience Device."  
  
Scott shook his head, "Joel's devising, Mike's planning... the first day or so I was back here, I kept expecting to hear the crashing of porcelain, the 'Gah!' and then someone chew 'em out for it."  
  
"You did that enough... not many people do now that you're here and they're there," she leaned her head on her hands, "I miss having you around, you know."  
  
"Seven years is a long time... but don't worry," he tried to assure, "I'll be back someday, and Mike can hold steady in my place until I am. I take it you haven't been bored since I 'passed on the torch'."  
  
"No... no, not at all," she chuckled, picking up a stick and tearing it apart.  
  
"Well, that's all you need then," Scott said, with some determination. He missed being at home, but he had no doubts in his replacement. Mike had more than enough mischief in him to keep her distracted indefinitely. Add in the fact she couldn't be angry with him for it, and it was nearly perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be when Scott isn't there. Seven years *is* a long time... a whole lifetime had been written, universes crossed, and in the end, they had saved each other. Four years ago, she had given him control of his powers... now it was gone, but that wasn't her action, instead the actions of others. That was one of the problems with sharing one universe with five people, but it couldn't be helped. In turn, he had given her the ability to fight for something, even if it hurt.  
  
She had given him a life, a family, and she had saved him from more angst than Marvel would... not so much in the beginning, but as time went on, he became her companion. He gave her strength. They had lived through a lot, leaning on each others shoulders. Loss, marriage, and laughter. In an odd sort of way, they were family.  
  
"Subreality, huh?" Scott asked, breaking the silence that had fallen, "What were they doing?"  
  
It had the effect he intended. She smiled wryly, "Well, they toured the Cafe, then they went to the Corner Store, and on their way back they dropped a circus elephant on an angry Sabertooth... that little gadget of theirs is pretty neat."  
  
"I could use one of those," he teased, "Toss me one and I'll never have to chop wood again."  
  
"You? That would be even worse," his Writer groaned, trying not to laugh, "God, they're bad enough. I don't need you going off on a tangent next."  
  
Scott shrugged, "I have before," he put on a serious expression, "and you can bet I will again."  
  
That last statement hung in the crystal cold air of Alaska, and slowly the Writer smiled. She missed him... a lot more than she would admit to anyone. Well, anyone outside of her mind. She missed his steadiness... he always knew what to do when something went wrong, and always knew how to shock her back from whatever funk she had fallen into. She missed his occasional ribbing over mistakes, and his conviction. Maybe she missed that most. He knew right from wrong and fought with everything he had for what he believed in. She wished she had that kind of courage.  
  
Sure, Mike was wonderful. He had such a sweet disposition, despite being a complete rebel, and since she had taken him onto her list she had learned what a sense of humor was. But he wasn't Scott, no matter how much she adored him. Scott was her friend... and more importantly, her hero. She looked up to him, tried to be as strong and tried not to let real life break her. Sometimes she succeeded, sometimes she failed. But she kept trying, if only because she admired him and didn't want to disappoint him.  
  
"I hope so, Scott..." she said, standing up and fading back to her own world before she started crying, "I really really hope so."  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Scott belongs to Marvel, but they don't deserve him. Mike and Joel belong to BBI, Subreality is Kielle's devising.  



	7. 7 - Pickles and Papers

**_Pickles and Papers_**  
_AKA - The Cheeseburger That Flew  
_Subreality Series - 7  
  
By: SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
Note: Sorry for jumping on so soon after the last one... there's nothing else to do, and boredom and computers are a very dangerous combination.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
The Pretentious Pair made their way back to the Cafe, already on their second set of batteries. Thanks to a low-grade Pentium with temperamental fits, their entire encounter with a pissed-off Sabertooth had been lost, but the look on his face when a circus elephant had fallen on him from the sky had been priceless.  
  
Mike sat towards the back, munching on a cheeseburger that was basically dripping toppings. Joel worked on the device, which he had worked on the window in the back so they could get in without having to answer 20 questions. Both of them were in a fairly good mood after the elephant, though, even if it did drain 4 new batteries. But Joel had worked it out... the more unrealistic their demands on the Plot Convenience Device, the more power it required. He was planning on finding a stronger power source as soon as they got back home.  
  
"How far d'ya think we can go if that's upgraded?" Mike asked, biting again into the hideously messy burger, and eyeing a short-haired Kitty across the room. She didn't look good with short hair... he had the urge to ask whoever her Writer was what they were doing.  
  
Joel mused over it for a moment, "I don't know... I guess we'll have to try it and find out," he smirked, then picked up the apple he had in front of him and took a bite before going back to work.  
  
Mike tore his attention away from the other table, going back to his dinner. He could eat like a horse, and often did. "Forget the elephants," he grinned, "We can go for the entire circus."  
  
"Send in the clowns!" Joel laughed. "Heck with that, we could turn everyone into circus performers. That would be better still."  
  
"I'll be the ringmaster and you can be my faithful assistant," Mike teased. "We'll get you a monkey suit and everything."  
  
"Yea, suuuure Nelson," Joel replied, pointing the newly loaded device at his cheeseburger. The laws of physics bent a bit... well, actually they broke, and the cheeseburger defied gravity and ended up on the front of Mike's white t-shirt.  
  
Mike gasped, "Hey! That was perfectly good food!" He jumped to his feet, brushing the pickles, patties, and lettuce away and going to the bar to get something to clean it off with. He picked up a few napkins before a paper on the floor caught his attention. He picked it up, temporarily forgetting his ruined t-shirt.  
  
_["So many of us have had to read lame fics about ReBoot. The start of all this? Jo Ann. It's common knowledge she writes the worst fics and now it's up to CAJA to stop her and other writers of bad fics. CAJA, a new and proud organization that is against all the Jo Anns out there. An angry mob that has access to chats and forums and not to mention a few angry fic writters with a computer on hand. There are those of you who may think bad fics are great, well...GET HELP!"]_  
  
Reading it over with a look not so dissimilar from that of a puzzled dog, he walked back to the table and set it down. "Looks like even the Writers get picked on," the Wisconsin farmboy said, offering it to Joel.  
  
The other man took the paper, also reading it. "ReBoot? Isn't that what you do when your computer crashes?"  
  
Mike shrugged. "I'm more concerned about the fact that writers is misspelled."  
  
Joel smirked. "Writters? Is this synonymous to fritters?"  
  
"Bitters?" Mike chuckled.  
  
"Sitters?"  
  
"Litters?"  
  
Joel laughed, "Well, I guess there's nothing to be too concerned about, is there?"  
  
Mike shook his head, taking a pen out of his jacket pocket and writing on the paper, below the text: "Jo Ann, if they can't even spell writers then I wouldn't worry about them. Let them look the fool, and you can secretly laugh about it. Sincerely, Mike Nelson". Then, very carefully, he crossed over to the small bulletin board near the bar and posted it up.  
  
Joel waited for him to get back. "Wonder if our Writers ever had that trouble."  
  
"I dunno..." Mike tried to salvage his dinner. "I mean, I've read some pretty awful fics in my day, and I never saw the name Jo Ann. If they were that bad, I know I would've had to read 'em."  
  
"Yea, me too. And as long as they don't come close to Manos, they can't be that bad." Joel shuddered at the thought of that movie. It had been pretty awful.  
  
"Or Fantasies Unexplored," Mike gagged, any interest in his food vanishing with the mention of that name. He had *nightmares* about that one.  
  
"Oh God..." Joel stood, looking green in the face. "That was... man..."  
  
"I think we should go." Mike nodded, standing himself. "I need some air now."  
  
"Where we going?"  
  
Mike just shrugged. "I dunno. Wherever we end up."  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike and Joel belong to BBI. The CAJA belongs to http://reboot.myqth.com/caja.htm <--- These people. Kitty belongs to Marvel, as does Sabertooth. The cheeseburger and the elephant... who knows? Kielle came up with Subreality, and I thank her profusely for allowing us to play here. Good luck, Jo, and don't let it get you down.  



	8. 8 - Stranded in Subreality

**_Stranded in Subreality_**  
_AKA - Mike and Joel Meet a Yeti  
_Subreality Series - 8  
  
By: Stephanie Watson (SLWatson)  
Karen Walker (KRWalker, Serris)  
  
- --------- - --  
  
It was getting darker out. Apparently Subreality had a night time, or maybe some author nearby got a hold of some paper of a computer and made it night time. Either way, it was definitely getting to that point.  
  
Mike and Joel wandered as they usually did; completely aimless. They rarely ever had an absolute plan when they roamed, but so far they were still alive, so it wasn't a big deal. Still, Halloween was coming up, and if it was weird in the real world... wait, the *written* world, then it would be a doozy in Subreality.  
  
Overhead a full moon hung, even though by the laws of realism, it wasn't the right time for that. But anything could happen in that realm. Far off in the distance, a coyote yipped. A cat yowled a few hundred feet away.  
  
Mike looked like a spooked horse... ready to bolt. Joel was more calm, but then, he had the Plot Convenience Device and it insured that they would have at least some protection against whatever could occur. He had tried to tell Mike that, but it was usually impossible to tell Mike anything when he had his mind set. And Mike was absolutely certain that some huge yeti would leap from the bushes, gobble them up alive, and leave nothing behind but a few teeth.  
  
Oddly enough, there was a yeti, but he was walking quite peaceably in the opposite direction they were. The giant furred creature chatted amiably with a companion... whatever it was, it looked kind of like a silver android. Mike took one look and his eyes got quite a bit wider than normal as he made for the nearest tree. With adrenaline induced strength and agility, he leapt up, grabbed a branch, and pulled his entire 220 and some odd pounds up.  
  
Joel wasn't too far behind, and he scaled the tree easier than Mike had. They both looked on, perched on a limb that creaked unstably as the yeti and the android walked past. That's when they realized that the yeti was speaking intelligible English, "Always the villain! Those damn Doctor Who fans seem to think that we're nothing more than cheap, tawdy, dime-a-dozen baddies!"  
  
The Paranoid Pair exchanged glances, and then Joel edged out further on the limb, wrapping both arms and legs around it. The limb was thinner there, and so was Joel, but it was a battle between limb and man, and unfortunately the man won. There was that horrible noise of crackling, snapping, and Joel tried to scramble back to where Mike was watching this nervously, doing a very good impersonation of a koala.  
  
He didn't make it, and the limb went before he got back. Mike moved quick, catching his arm before he could fall, but the limb fell and in the struggle, so did the Plot Convenience Device. Mike quickly pulled him up the rest of the way, and the two perched on what was left of the limb breathlessly.  
  
"What's this?" The yeti asked, walking over. He looked up into the tree. Mike whimpered and Joel cringed. The yeti paid no mind, then looked down, picking up the Plot Convenience Device.  
  
The silver looking man... er, android walked over as well. "It appears to be a device created using an archaic human pocket computer, a chip of unknown origin, and four... batteries?"  
  
The yeti looked up again. "What sort of device is this?"  
  
Mike swallowed hard, trying to melt into the tree. Being 6'2" tall with blond hair didn't make this easy... nor did the white t-shirt, faded jeans and denim jacket he was wearing, but he sure as heck tried his best. Joel was a little braver. "It's just a calculator," he answered, trying not to let his voice get too shaky or too squeaky. It wasn't every day that a yeti had in his hands the power to bend reality.  
  
"Oh," the yeti replied, playing with the buttons.  
  
Joel cringed again. "Uhhhh... that's not... um, exactly safe."  
  
The yeti walked away, still playing, as the android looking fellow disappeared momentarily then reappeared in a pink tutu with a showgirl on it's arm.   
  
"NOOOOOOOOiiiiiieeeee!!!" *THUMP* Mike blinked, wondering how he made it to the ground so fast, laying flat on his back with his breath knocked from him. Then he noticed Joel, and in slow motion the other man fell as well.  
  
A moment passed, and Joel managed in a strained voice, "Sorry 'bout that, Mike."  
  
Mike just groaned in response, an elbow that wasn't his planted very firmly in his gut. This night was not going well at all.  
  
  
It took them a few minutes to figure out who's limbs belonged to who, and to get up from the dirty ground. By then, the yeti and his strange companion were gone, and so was their only way home. Once Mike managed to regain his ability to speak, he looked to Joel, "So... what now?"  
  
Joel winced. "I think we better find some place with a pay-phone, or someone with a Palm V, a chip from Cerebro... or we better find a job and get somewhere to live."  
  
"That bad, huh?" Mike chuckled, wryly.  
  
"That bad," Joel replied.  
  
And with that, the stranded Characters continued their walk.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike and Joel belong to BBI. The Yeti and the silver android fellow (Cyberman) belong to BBC... lot of B's, aren't there? Kielle came up with the Subreality concept.  
  
No yetis were harmed in the making of this fic.  



	9. 9 - Mission: Not So Impossible

**_Mission: Not So Impossible_**  
_AKA - A Yeti in an Armani  
_Subreality Series - 9  
  
By: SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
- --------- - --  
  
  
The passage of time was sketchy at best, but one couldn't expect the laws of time to be obeyed in a realm where most universal rule was broken on a regular basis. Mike and Joel managed as well as they could, but both were getting more and more worried that they would spend eternity in Subreality. While this was survivable, they knew that those they left at home would worry, and neither of them wanted to leave their friends and family wondering.  
  
Still, there wasn't a whole lot they could do about it. Like the troopers they were, they made the best of a tough situation. Betty Ann had taken some pity on them, so now they could at least sleep inside, but most of their waking hours were spent trying to find a way home.  
  
Mike leaned against the banister of the steps that led down from the porch, watching Joel work on a circuit board from a cheap calculator. He didn't know if the inventor would be able to pull a proverbial rabbit out of his hat, but he hoped that some brilliant insight would occur, and they would be miraculously transported home. "Any luck?" he asked, though it was completely unnecessary.  
  
"Nope," Joel replied, as he had the last eighty times that Mike had asked. If it had been anyone else asking him every ten minutes or so, he might have gotten impatient. As it were, however, Mike was his only link to the world that he had come from, and his best friend to boot.  
  
"Wish I could find that yeti," Mike sighed, tossing a pebble down to the ground and watching it skitter across the road. He was bored, stranded, and insane to begin with; a dangerous combination if there ever was one.  
  
"Yep." Joel attached an insulated wire to the board, then jumped when it sparked. "I don't think this is gonna go anywhere."  
  
"So what do we do? Wait for our Writers to rescue us, or track down the yeti?" Mike stood, pacing the length of the porch.  
  
"We don't know where the yeti went, for one." Joel stood and paced opposite of Mike. "For two, we don't have anyway to contact the Writers."  
  
"The yeti's probably down at This Time Round." Betty walked out, narrowly avoiding being sandwiched between the two pacing gentlemen.  
  
"Where?" Mike stopped, eyebrows drawn in confusion.  
  
"This Time Round," she said again, "Where the Doctor Who fictives go..."  
  
Joel raised an eyebrow, still looking a little lost. For all he knew, she could be talking about the Lost Continent.  
  
"It's a pub," she chuckled. "You two really are new, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," Mike nodded, "Very new. Where is this pub, anyway?"  
  
"Just down the road aways," Betty explained, gesturing in the proper direction. "Plan on heading down there?"  
  
Joel and Mike exchanged a glance, then they both looked back at her and nodded in unison.  
  
"Good luck, boys," she smiled, and walked back inside.  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
It seemed like the weather was leaning more towards fall now, but it still wasn't so cold that the Plotting Pair couldn't handle it. On their little walk towards This Time Round, they had planned. Ohhhh, had they planned.  
  
Mike had decided that it would be best to lay in wait. Joel tended to agree, but he went even farther by suggesting camouflage. By the time they were nearing the time-travelers pub, they had gone into covert ops overload. Joel was decked out in leaves and branches, and Mike had covered himself in some mud. They hummed the theme to Mission: Impossible, and parked themselves in some bushes outside.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited some more.  
  
Mike looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes.  
  
Joel fidgeted, picking a leave off the bush and tearing it apart. Twenty minutes.  
  
And they still waited.  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
"Joel?"  
  
"Yea Mike?"  
  
"Think we're gonna get home?"  
  
"Yea Mike."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Late."  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
"Mike?"  
  
"Yea Joel?"  
  
"Think that thing's even here?"  
  
"Yea Joel."  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Later."  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
"Joel?"  
  
"Yea Mike?"  
  
"I'm going to sleep."  
  
"Yea... me too."  
  
"Night."  
  
"Night."  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
Morning found the Dreaming Duo sleeping in the bushes outside of This Time Round. Joel was leaning against the building and Mike was curled up on the ground, snoring softly. There was no real way to tell if it was really morning, or just another of those odd things that happened in this neck of the woods, but the sky was getting lighter, and that was good enough.  
  
Mike stirred awake; years of waking up at the crack of dawn had ingrained a certain instinct for it, and though normally he could ignore it, the ground didn't exactly make for the best sleeping place. He stretched, noting the pattern of branches on his hands that resembled a street guide to the Big Apple. There was nothing quite like sleeping in the great outdoors... he'd take a bed anytime. He took a brief moment to rub his eyes and yawn, then reached over and shook Joel awake.  
  
"Hnnn...?" Joel mumbled, wincing and finally blinking his eyes open.  
  
"Morning," Mike yawned again.  
  
Joel just groaned. His neck ached from how he had slept, and they still hadn't found that blasted yeti. Odd enough, there were still folks coming and going from the pub. A few guys in odd looking scarves, one wearing something that looked like celery, and more leggy women than either men had seen in quite awhile. That was pretty amazing in itself; the X-Mansion had it's fair share. He rubbed his neck with one hand, vowing to give that yeti a good kick in the shin when he caught up to him.  
  
He didn't have to wait long. Mike interrupted his self-massage, "I think that's our yeti, Joel..."  
  
Joel looked. Sure enough, there was the yeti and his silver friend. The yeti was wearing a nice Armani suit and in his hand...  
  
The Plot Convenience Device.  
  
The Tenacious Twosome exchanged a meaningful glance, not even needing to exchange words. Then, with a kamikaze yell that echoed all the way down the road, they broke from the bush. The yeti looked up. Then the yeti was on the ground, struggling beneath a Mike-Joel dogpile. Joel managed to get his hands on the Device (and get a good kick to the shin in), and Mike got an impromptu mouth of white fur. The yeti howled, throwing the two men off like they were a couple of flies, and then stood, growling.  
  
Mike picked himself up, spitting fur out with a complete look of disgust. "P-tuh! Gack!"  
  
"Give that back," the yeti snarled, taking a step or two towards Joel.  
  
Joel stuck the Device in his pocket. "Ummm... no?"  
  
The yeti gave another howl and started after him, but yetis weren't made for Armani, and he tripped after a few feet. Mike jumped over him and grabbed Joel by the arm, almost giggling at the excitement, "C'mon!" He pulled Joel along, much to the bemusement of the onlookers who had gathered.  
  
Joel laughed and he and Mike took off in the opposite direction of the crowd. They had the power again, and every intention of using it.  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: The yeti belongs to BBC, as well as any other Doctor Who references. Mike and Joel belong to Best Brains, Inc. This Time Round was first concepted (I believe) by Tyler Dion.  
  



	10. 10 - Homeward Bound

**_Homeward Bound_**  
_AKA - The Not So Incredible Journey  
_Subreality Series - 10 - Finale  
  
By: SLWatson  
KRWalker  
  
Brief Cameo: Jess Willey  
  
Notes: Sorry this one took so long, but now you don't have to worry about the boys running amuck in Subreality. Though, knowing that pair, they'll be back sometime or another to cause trouble. Thanks for putting up with us!  
  
- --------- - --  
  
It had been an odd run, at any length. Starting out in the Subreality Cafe, then taking a trip down the road, and even further, Mike Nelson and Joel Robinson were now ready to go home. It had been fun for the most part, aside from the temporary scare they had gotten by losing the Plot Convenience Device. They had learned a lot about the nature of Reality, Subreality, and Fiction. They had learned that though they were nothing more than fiction characters technically, in truth, they were so much more. In truth, they were capable of independent thought and feeling. Perhaps that was what separated them from some other characters... the ability to decide for themselves what they would be.  
  
Now, as fall was beginning to come to an end and the days were getting colder even in Subreality, they decided to go home. It hadn't been long since they had gotten their device back. Since that time they had met a few more familiar faces, some unfamiliar faces, were chased around by some things that looked like bunny slippers... but then, it couldn't have been. Bunny slippers were just not that scary... were they?  
  
But anyway, it had been a trip. Now the trip was over.  
  
Joel and Mike stood outside of the Subreality Cafe. The pub behind them was lively with laughter and the neon sign glowed merrily into the night. The air outside was crisp and cold, filled with the smell of smoke wafting from the building, and of frost which would gather on the ground soon enough. Joel programmed the modified handheld computer easily enough, having gotten good at it over the time since it had been invented. "Well, I guess this is it," he commented, tossing a glance over at Mike.  
  
Mike nodded. He was ready to go home to the Mansion now, and back to life as normal... well, as normal as it ever got in the X-Mansion. He missed razzing Remy at every chance he got, and missed sitting on the dock fishing. "Take 'er away, skipper."  
  
Joel smiled and hit the send button.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
He pursed his lips in a moment of confusion and tried again.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"Problem?" Mike asked, leaning over to look at it. Joel didn't answer, and tried programming it slightly different.  
  
Deader than a doornail.  
  
"Nothing," the inventor murmured, worry making a brief appearance on his face. He ran a quick diagnostic, but it showed everything in proper working order. the batteries were brand new, and there was nothing that should be keeping them from making the trip home.  
  
"Nothing?" Mike raised both of his eyebrows. He didn't like the sound of that. After being in Subreality for this long, he really really wanted to go home. Not that it was a bad place, but home was home, and he didn't want to be trapped forever.  
  
"Nothing." A somewhat cool voice broke in, coming from behind the two men. Slowly they turned around to find the speaker. She was taller than most females, long hair that was less than neat, dark-ringed eyes that screamed of sleep deprivation, paint speckled leather jacket, torn jeans, and a gold ring on her wedding finger that glowed more than rings normally glowed out there in Reality. "Something the matter, gentlemen?"  
  
"Um..." Mike basically answered for the both of them. He didn't know what to make of this; they had met some unfriendly people out there, but this woman was all but dripping ice onto the front steps of the Cafe.  
  
"You know, I don't think I'm unjust to you, Nelson. I don't think I step over the lines very far, if at all, and I sure as Hell don't cross into Corruption..." Her voice trailed off for a moment and she turned a slight shade of red, but regained her composure before they could question it. "But if you ever, and I mean *ever*, decide to rebel without some sort of advanced warning, I am going to kick your farmboy butt to Pluto."  
  
Well that explained the irritability, and the sleep deprived look. She was the Writer, and by the way the cold seemed to radiate off of her, she was a very unhappy Writer to boot. Mike blinked once or twice, then opted for his best smugly defiant look, feeling safe and secure with the knowledge Scott had given him a long time ago... she liked him too much to mess him up. "We didn't do anything wrong... b'sides, you could have come and gotten us any time you wanted."  
  
"Yea, and we were just about to come back," Joel added, hoping that Mike wasn't leading them both into bad situation.  
  
"And you," she turned her dark look to Joel, "Your Writer needs to lock you in the Danger Room with a mad Wolverine in heat and throw away the key... er, door lock combination..." she sighed, "whatever."  
  
Joel swallowed hard, eyes wide open with well-founded worry. That thought could scare any man.  
  
"Now, we're going to put you back in your own universe, and you two are going to behave. At least behave until everything is settled, okay?" The Writer looked between the two lunatics, and wondered again how she had gotten into this.  
  
"Ummm.... you wrote yourself in?" came a voice from behind her. "Sorry about that. I was just reading your narration."  
  
"Have we met?" the Writer asked.  
  
"Sorta....we've chatted on IRC. You're right. You're Fictives are out of control... but you made the mistake... you gave them a fraction of your Writer powers by giving them free will. Let a more experienced Subrealizen handle this."  
  
"What?" the Writer said, the ice queen level notching up a hair.  
  
"What? Don't you trust me?" the other Writer replied.   
  
  
Joel felt a tap on the shoulder. "Huh? You, but you're over there," Joel commented, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"It's a Writer thing.... no one can see me but you right now. I can get you home, but you have to send me one of those engines with this crystal put in it. Y'see I already wrote it into an RR post," the second Writer's twin said.  
  
"I dunno, wouldn't that be going behind my Writer's back?" Joel asked.  
  
"Come on, I'm a trustworthy guy..."  
  
"Hey, Joel, who are you talking to?"  
  
"Umm.. no one."  
  
The first Writer stared at the second Writer with mild contempt. "What are you pulling?"  
  
"Nothing.... I mean come on, if you can't trust a Subreality Safety Inspector, who can you trust?" the second Writer asked.  
  
The first Writer smirked. "Well, my instincts for one, dear." She looked back at the two Fictives, who were both looking a little lost and confused. "Are you two ready to go home, or do I have to break out the ion cannon?"  
  
It was Mike's turn to swallow hard, and he nodded. "More'n ready."  
  
She stepped forward, prying the Plot Convenience Device away from Joel. "Good." He looked like he wanted to protest, but in a flash of light, he and Mike were both gone. She turned, smiling slightly at the other Writer. "You know, it's hard to coerce a fictive when the words are on the screen, luv." Then the Writer tossed him the Plot Convenience Device with a wink, and vanished herself.  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
When they appeared back in their own world, it couldn't have been too long after they left. Of course, this was back in the universe created for them, and in that universe, time wasn't necessarily an issue.  
  
It much have been long enough to strike worry into the hearts of their family, though. Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot exited the front doors of the Mansion like streaks of red and gold, all but throwing themselves onto their two humans. They jabbered about a mile a minute, scolding, grumbling, and finally sniffling. Life in the X-Mansion had taught them one thing... never take the people you care about for granted.  
  
Kitty walked out a moment later, looking very much like the Writer had. She was not a happy woman. She had spent days worrying about where they were, and had called upon X-Men resources to try and locate them. Now they showed up, perfectly fine, and she wondered exactly what the heck they were doing gone for so long without so much as a call.  
  
Once the 'bots had their turn chewing the Dynamic Duo out, Kitty stepped forward to give her lecture. "If you two had any idea about how worried we were, and..." her voice trailed off as she was given two near identical expressions. Puppy-dog eyes. Pouting. Completely adorable. She sighed heavily... there was no way she could possibly lecture. Once the lip trembling thing started, she'd lose it. "Where were you?"  
  
"Ummmm..." Mike looked at Joel, shrugging helplessly.  
  
"We, uh... we don't know," Joel supplied, a bit too quickly.  
  
"You don't know," Kitty echoed, looking between the two of them. Two years before when she had been given her own command, she had never imagined having such nutcases on her team. Back then, it hadn't been hard. No insubordination, no crazy stunts, and no riffing her debriefings behind her back. Then, in the early summer, Mike had shown up (thanks to Scott), and they had retrieved Joel not long after. Since then, and since they had been inducted into ShadowKnight, they had certainly... *livened* the place up. "Well, do tell me when you have it figured out, okay?"  
  
The two men nodded in unison, and after a moment headed back towards the house. Kitty fell in with them, and the 'bots went on ahead.  
  
"Hey, Kitty?" Mike asked, discreetly reaching over and taking her hand, then looking at the sky and whistling a little tune. Not much he could do about blushing, though.  
  
"Yea Mike?" She asked in turn, smiling slightly, but not really all that interested in getting her hand back.  
  
He looked back at her for a moment, blue eyes twinkling. "Don't ever cut your hair short, okay? And if this guy named Pete comes around, just point him out to me."  
  
Kitty smiled a little more, shaking her head. She had no idea where that came from. "I'll agree to that if you agree to leave a note before you run off."  
  
Mike nodded solemnly, then grinned. "Deal."  
  
------- ------ -----  
  
The Writer collapsed onto the battered couch at her parent's house, rubbing her eyes. They could drive a person to drink, those two. After a moment, she looked up at her sister, confident, best friend, and Co-Writer. "The boys are home safe. Any idea for punishment? I was thinking Christmas shopping in New York City during a half-off sale with touring Midwestern mothers."  
  
Her sister sat in the computer chaironly a few feet away, leaned back and posing the question. She wore a pair of faded jeans, a black shirt with the word Orgy plastered across the chest ('cause that's how she was) and a black velvet coat that was the closest thing to a cap without actually being one. He hair was down, nearly as long as the Writer, and black, half-framed glasses added to the ensemble, "Punishment? That's more like torture..."  
  
"Well, after the Hell they put us through on a regular basis," the eldest of the two muttered. She idly pet the dog, looking at the ceiling. "Maybe have an old man show up as an exotic dancer, hired by Kitty, to torment the boys." She grinned. "I threatened Joel with Wolverine in heat, locked in the Danger Room with no way out. I think I scared him."  
  
"Probably," she smiled, "Then again, he's probably going to make me pay for it later. Those cleats on gray matter kills me."  
  
"Ow... well, worst comes to worst and we just let them be until we think up a suitable retaliation." The first Writer shrugged. "Afterall, next year is a new year, and a whole new set of opportunities."  
  
"Agreed. Should be interesting... fun."  
  
"Or odd and disturbing." A wicked grin. "Either works."  
  
- --------- - --  
  
Disclaimers: Mike, Joel and the 'bots belong to BBI. Kitty, Scott, and anyone else X-Related belongs to Marvel. Jess belongs to himself, and so do Karen and I. Kielle concepted Subreality, and for that, we're in her debt.  



End file.
